Harry Potter and the Dying
by spaghettisausage
Summary: The last few chapters of the last book as i want them. Surprise ending! COMPLETE!Very sad. please r
1. Betrayal

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they are all J.K.Rowling's  
  
The war had begun.  
  
Harry Potter was sitting in his dormitory window, looking out at the Hogwart's grounds. He was in his 7th and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was thinking back to the 1st time he had looked out of this window, 7 years ago. He couldn't help wishing that he could turn back time and be 11 forever.  
  
But that couldn't be so.  
  
The war had started shortly after the beginning of the summer term. He had been sitting with Ron and Hermione, playing wizard's chess. Harry was losing as always and his Queen had been killed by Ron's pawn!  
  
They all had heard a creak of the portrait and looked up to see who it was. Professor Magonagal had entered the common room.  
  
"Potter, Weasley, Granger, come with me please." Her voice was deadly serious and her whole demeanour had changed. Instead of looking strict and proper, her face was of someone who had just suffered a severe shock.  
  
They stood up as one, their good moods evaporating in an instant. They all wondered what had happened. Harry remembered wondering what he had done wrong this time.  
  
They turned down winding corridors full of pupils staring at them in astonishment. After all Hermione was Head Girl, Harry hadn't been surprised at the looks.  
  
The Professor led them to the stone gargoyle, which hid the headmaster's office, in silence.  
  
"Lemon Bon-Bon." This was the password that gained them entrance to the hidden room above. As soon as she uttered the words the gargoyle stepped aside and they had filed onto the moving staircase, The Professor first, then Ron, Hermione and finally Harry.  
  
The Headmaster had been at the top waiting for them. His eyes showed none of their usual sparkle and his mouth had been set in a thin straight line. His robes had been of a dark black, quite unlike what Harry had seen him wear before.  
  
"Come in," his voice had been sombre and melancholy.  
  
"I'm afraid I have some very bad news. Last night." his voice had broken off at this. He had run his fingers through his greying hair, took a deep breath and tried again.  
  
"Last night, Lord Voldemort broke into the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters. He murdered all present, except one. He left Tonks alive, but severely hurt. She is recovering at St. Mungos. Thankfully, Mr and Mrs Weasley were elsewhere, so they are not hurt."  
  
Ron breathed a sigh of relief, but Harry and Hermione had both been shocked. Dumbledore's face had contorted in anger and grief. He had looked at all present and saw their faces reflecting what he felt.  
  
"I myself had been there earlier that evening, but I had had to return on school matters. This is the start of the war; we must do all we can to protect ourselves. Harry I think now is the time you must tell Ron and Hermione about the prophecy."  
  
He had turned to Harry, who had been standing there with his mouth wide open. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. How was this possible?  
  
Millions of questions had started running through his head. How, who, why?  
  
But his questions had had to be asked later. Hermione and Ron were staring at him, questioning looks on their faces.  
  
"What prophesy, Harry," Hermione asked, "what haven't you told us?" She hadn't looked quite as steady a usual and her face had been of someone who was very scared.  
  
So Harry had told them the secret he had been carrying for the last 18 months. About the prophecy which defined his fate for the rest of his life. The one that said that either he would kill Voldemort or Voldemort would kill him.  
  
Ron and Hermione had stood there, listening to him with horrified looks on their faces. When he had finished there was a minute of silence before anyone spoke.  
  
"That is why," Dumbledore had broken the silence. "That is why, Harry we have had to put extra precautions on you. You are not allowed to leave the castle and you cannot go anywhere on your own.  
  
You are our only hope. With the Order of the Phoenix destroyed, our hopes and the hopes of all the world, rest on you."  
  
Harry vaguely remembered walking back to the common room and climbing the stairs to his dormitory.  
  
6 weeks later he was still finding it hard to believe that he would never see Lupin, Moody or any of the others ever again.  
  
He missed them almost as much as he was missing Sirius, even though it had been 1½ years since he had died.  
  
He gazed out of the window, absentmindedly picking at the windowpane. Ron and Hermione had been shocked that Harry had kept such a large secret from them for so long.  
  
Recently, however, they had begun to realise that Harry could never have told them before. It had been too dangerous.  
  
Dumbledore had kept to his word. Harry had not been allowed out of the castle at all.  
  
Ron and Hermione had done what Dumbledore had ordered; they hadn't left him alive for the last 6 weeks.  
  
At the last Hogsmeade weekend, he, Ron and Hermione had stayed behind, playing Wizard's chess, gobstones and just talking quietly.  
  
Harry sighed, stretched, and silently made his way back to his warm bed.  
  
Harry sat bolt upright. He had just remembered something that made everything seem wrong.  
  
He jumped out of bed, pulled on a dressing gown over his pyjamas, picked up his invisibility cloak and ran down the stairs. He ran out the portrait hole and bounded towards the Headmaster's office.  
  
He paused by the Gargoyle, wondering whether the Headmaster would be annoyed at Harry waking him at 2 in the morning. He decided that it couldn't wait; he had to tell Dumbledore now.  
  
The Gargoyle leaped aside when he whispered the password and Harry jumped up the spiralling staircase 3 steps at a time.  
  
He pushed open the door and ran inside. He ground to a halt suddenly when he saw who was inside.  
  
Standing by Dumbledore's desk, speaking quietly to the Headmaster was Lord Voldemort. 


	2. The Perfect Place

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they are all J.K.Rowling's  
  
"No." a strangled cry escaped Harry's lips. He couldn't be seeing what he thought he was, he couldn't.  
  
Dumbledore couldn't be in league with him, it wasn't possible.  
  
Voldemort had stood up and was looking at Harry with joy in his eyes. His long black cloak flowed to the floor and clashed with the clean brown tiles.  
  
"Ahh, Harry Potter, just who I wanted to see." He voice was cold and sharp. It sent shivers down Harry's spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stick up.  
  
Harry looked desperately at Dumbledore; he had to be faking it, he couldn't really have gone over to the evil side. Harry didn't know what he would do without Dumbledore.  
  
But Harry saw no trace of the man he thought he had known.  
  
Dumbledore's eyes were glinting in the same way as Voldemort's were. Harry didn't want to believe it. he couldn't believe it.  
  
"Professor, no! Don't you recognise me? Don't you know what you are doing?"  
  
Voldemort let out a high cold laugh.  
  
"He won't help you Harry, he is mine now. He has been for the last 6 weeks.The old mudblood-lover is gone forever."  
  
Everything slipped into place; Harry understood why he had had a niggling sense of foreboding for the last month and a half.  
  
"How. how is this possible?" Harry's voice had shrunk to almost nothing. There was nothing left to hope for. Without Dumbledore there was no hope, none at all.  
  
Harry backed into the door and his fingers scrabbled for the door handle. He found it and tried to turn it unnoticed, but he was seen.  
  
Voldemort pointed his wand at the keyhole and a green light shot out. Harry knew even without trying that he was now locked in. Voldmort smiled at him and said:  
  
"I suppose I might explain to you what has happened. But not here, we could be found here. Let us leave this place. Dumbledore, take us somewhere where we won't be found."  
  
Dumbledore raised his hands, uttered a small shout and Harry found himself outside a small house. It was set in the middle of the countryside and was surrounded by tall pine trees.  
  
Harry didn't recognise it.  
  
Voldemort smiled.  
  
"Perfect, perfect, just what we needed. Harry do you know where we are?"  
  
Harry shook his head, wondering how this tiny little house could be 'perfect.'  
  
"This Harry is your old house. The house where your dear Mother and Father died. The house where you almost killed me. This is where you are finally going to die."  
  
Then Dumbledore started laughing, a high cold laugh identical to Voldemort's. Voldemort soon joined in and the sound rent Harry's ears and head.  
  
Harry looked around him in a panic, was there anyway he could escape?  
  
The only exit was a small gate set far behind him in the thick of the trees. He decided to run for it.  
  
He turned his back and started to sprint to the gate. But before he even took two paces Dumbledore had caught him in a bright shining cage.  
  
Harry was drawn back towards them both and the cage was lifted when he was in front of Voldemort.  
  
Voldemort reached out a long, thin, white finger and touched Harry's forehead. Pain exploded in his temple, which slowly spread through the rest of his body. His limbs lolled uselessly over the ground.  
  
Harry keeled over and knew no more. 


	3. Explainations

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they are all J.K.Rowling's  
  
He came to 15 minutes later. He was now seated on a small wooden chair. Ropes held him tightly to the arms and legs of the chair and a gag had been stuffed in his mouth.  
  
Voldemort and Dumbledore were sitting in large velvet armchairs facing a roaring black fire. They were conversing quietly and didn't seem to have noticed his revival.  
  
Harry took this chance to look around the room. He could only manage to turn his head because the ropes were holding him too tightly.  
  
The house seemed to be covered in a thick layer of dust. Harry wondered if the house had been left uninhabited since that fateful day 16 years ago.  
  
It was decorated in Edwardian style. The two large armchairs in which Dumbledore and Voldemort were sitting were very ornate. The fireplace was large and had a carved wooden mantelpiece above.  
  
Next to the fireplace, was the door. It was large, made out of oak and had many muggle locks on it that were all fastened. Harry was certain that it was also locked by magic as well. It looked impenetrable.  
  
Harry tried to stretch his head around to see what was behind him, but just then Dumbledore turned and saw he was awake.  
  
"The prisoner has awoken." His voice was different than Harry remembered; it was much deeper and with no trace of kindness in it. The long silver beard seemed to have turned a dark dirty grey and the glasses now had black rims instead of gold.  
  
Voldemort stood up and smiled.  
  
"Now the fun begins."  
  
He made his way over to the chair where Harry was captured and started pacing up and down the room. He stopped and said:  
  
"So Harry Potter, you want to know what has happened to the great Dumbledore? I will tell you."  
  
He conjured a chair out of mid-air and sat down. During his entire explanation he didn't take his eyes off Harry for even a second.  
  
"Well Harry Potter, we are all sitting here today because of a lifetime of work.  
  
While I was at the height of my power I started to try to make a old dark magic potion. I had seen this potion in a book in the restricted section at Hogwarts when I was a student. This potion would make the person who drank it do anything for the powerful dark wizard who gave it to them.  
  
This was exactly what I wanted to do. For years I tried to remember the exact ingredients and the way it was made, but the recipe eluded me.  
  
I made many different potions in the process, but I could not find the one I desired.  
  
Three years ago I sent my loyal servant to Hogwarts as you know. While he was there he collected that book for me.  
  
No one noticed it had gone missing, because the only person who knew about it was me. Everyone had forgotten that such a book ever existed.  
  
Since I had other ideas at that moment, I refrained from making that particular potion.  
  
However, my plans did not work out and I turned my mind again to this potion. 7 weeks ago it was finally ready to use.  
  
I knew exactly whom I wanted to give it to. Dumbledore had been the main wizard who had stopped me carrying out my plans before; this would not happen again. I put the potion into the wine that Dumbledore drank.  
  
He went to the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters and murdered all of the members. He left Tonks alive, but so badly hurt that she will never speak again.  
  
Dumbledore told everyone that I murdered them all. No one suspected him, why would they? He was the one who had always helped everyone before.  
  
I have been visiting him every week. The potion does not last forever so I had to give him his weekly dosage. You were unlucky enough to walk in while we were talking.  
  
Everything is going according to plan, Harry Potter, you will soon die."  
  
Voldemort stood up, a satisfied smile on his face. He beckoned Dumbledore forward and whispered in his ear.  
  
Slowly a wide evil smile spread across both of their faces. Voldemort walked out of the door and they were left alone. 


	4. The end

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they are all J.K.Rowling's  
  
Dumbledore reached up and took Harry's gag off. Harry wondered if there was anyway he could snap the Professor out of it.  
  
"Dumbledore.Professor," he pleaded "fight it, don't do it."  
  
"Shut up boy," his voice was loud and threatening "I help the Dark Lord now, not you."  
  
Harry looked up into Dumbledore's eyes in trepidation. He was never going to escape now, there was no hope.  
  
Dumbledore stepped forward and held out his hands.  
  
"Slepsinastra!" he roared.  
  
A black light shot at Harry and hit him straight in the head. His mind was suddenly full of nightmarish pictures. Ron lying dead on the floor, Hermione being burnt alive. The high cold laugh and his parent's screams.  
  
Harry moaned and screamed. He tore at his bonds. His flailing hands hit the back of the chair with such force that he felt a bone break.  
  
"Stop it, stop it!" he shouted.  
  
Dumbledore just stood there and smiled.  
  
Harry was kept under this spell for the next 2 minutes. It seemed to him much longer. His head filled with the worst nightmares he could ever have.  
  
"No. stop it." His voice was empty as if the things he could see had drawn all life out of him. Dumbledore cackled and lifted the spell.  
  
"Slepsinastra," he said "the nightmare spell." He walked closer to Harry and whispered in his ear:  
  
"You don't want that any more? Well, here's a change."  
  
"Cruico"  
  
Dumbledore raise his hands and his next spell hit Harry in the head.  
  
He turned on his heel and walked out of the room.  
  
Harry thrashed and moaned. 'Make it stop' he screamed in his head 'make it stop.'  
  
Then the pain stopped suddenly. Harry looked up through tear-streaked eyes to see Voldemort standing over him, holding his wand.  
  
"That was fun, wasn't it?" he said, "those dreams you saw, that is what my ideal world is like. Death to all Muggles, Mudbloods and Pureblood traitors. That IS what the world is going to be like when you die. And you are going to die now."  
  
The ropes around Harry suddenly relaxed and fell to the ground. Harry tried to stand up and make a run for it, but Voldemort pushed him back on the chair.  
  
Even that tiniest touch sent Harry into the grips of pain once more. He sat back on the chair twisting and turning at the sharp dots of pain stabbing his temple.  
  
"Odestia," Voldemort shouted. Harry suddenly found himself on his feet and had started moving towards a door behind him. He had no control over his feet.  
  
His feet took him up stairs to the 2nd door on the right. He recognised this room immediately.  
  
He had just seen it in his nightmares. This was where the killing curse had deflected off him. It was where his mum and dad had died.  
  
Voldemort lifted the curse off him and he fell to the floor. He tried to stand and managed to hold onto a bed and pull himself up. If he was going to die, he wasn't going to do it sitting down.  
  
Voldemort turned to Harry and started talking.  
  
"To make this a little fairer, I will also be wandless. We will fight the Muggle way."  
  
He suddenly let fly a blow that knocked Harry to the ground. Harry pulled himself up almost immediately. Harry felt his mouth and saw that there was blood on his hand.  
  
Harry aimed a punch at Voldemort's head but he missed.  
  
Voldemort tried to kick him, but fell over.  
  
Harry immediately jumped on top of him and started pummelling him.  
  
Harry reached behind him and his scrabbling fingers found Voldemort's wand. He grabbed it and pointed it at Voldemort's neck.  
  
"Guess this is where we say goodbye then," he panted, his hand gripping tightly onto the wand.  
  
"Not in the way you think," Voldemort replied. The pale long fingers had reached inside the robe and drawn out a carving knife.  
  
Voldemort plunged it hilt deep into Harry's chest. Harry fell backwards and lay on the floor.  
  
He couldn't breathe; his blood was seeping all over the carpet. He couldn't die like this, he had to do something.  
  
Harry raised his head slightly and yelled out:  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" he fell back as he watched a huge shape fall slowly to the ground.  
  
Harry took one more shuddering breath, before his heart gave out.  
  
And Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, died. 


	5. The Death

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine; they are J.K. Rowling's  
  
Dumbledore suddenly awoke. He saw himself standing over two bodies, Voldemort's and Harry Potter's.  
  
Harry's was drenched with blood, but Voldemort's looked totally untouched.  
  
He sank to his knees unable to believe what he was seeing. He couldn't. it wasn't possible.  
  
Harry was dead and so was Voldemort. But what was he doing here? Had he in some way contributed to this disaster?  
  
Only one of them was supposed to die. What was he to do?  
  
Dumbledore fell to his knees and let out a low inhuman moan. He couldn't do anything. but maybe. there was one thing he could do. Did he have the resolve to do it?  
  
He made up his mind, he had to do it. Harry was more important than he could ever be.  
  
He stood up and went over to the armchairs by the fire. Lying on the chairs were two wands, Harry's and Voldemort.  
  
The old Professor picked up both of them and took a deep breath. He walked back over to the bodies.  
  
He had must hurry, if he didn't work quickly there would be no chance of Harry's revival.  
  
First of all, though, he had to explain what he was doing in a letter to Harry. He conjured up pen, ink and paper and started to write the letter.  
  
10 minutes later he folded up the parchment and put it on the armchair.  
  
He stepped over Harry's body and pointed Voldemort's wand at his own heart. He pointed Harry's wand at Harry's body.  
  
He opened his mouth and yelled out "Mortensia et Vervaria"  
  
A green light exploded out of the end of Voldemort's wand. It hit Dumbledore in the chest as at the same time as a bright white exploded out of the end of Harry's wand.  
  
The old man fell to the ground at the same time as life suddenly came back into Harry's body.  
  
The soft thud of Dumbledore's body was the first sound that Harry heard. He felt dizzy and there was a sharp pain in his chest.  
  
He rolled over onto the blood-drenched carpet and saw the frail shell of what had been a great man.  
  
Harry stood up unable to believe what he could see. Dumbledore couldn't be dead. wait a minute, how could he be alive? He clearly remembered the sharp pain as the dagger had pierced his skin.  
  
He looked around him, and sure enough the dagger was lying covered in blood by his side.  
  
Harry struggled to his feet, everything slightly blurred. He stumbled over to Dumbledore's feet and fell to his knees.  
  
A large tear silently rolled down his face and fell on the old man's dark purple robes.  
  
"No." he moaned. Dumbledore couldn't be dead. He was almost like his Granddad, what had happened?  
  
Harry lifted his head and a scrap of white parchment lying on the armchair caught his eyes.  
  
He shakily stood up and reached for it. It said:  
  
Dear Harry  
  
If you are reading this then my plan has succeeded. You will have been brought back to life and I'm afraid I will be dead. Please do not mourn too much for me, I am old and was dying anyway. But I feel I must explain a few  
things.  
  
The spell I used on us both was of my own invention. It involved taking  
life from a living person and putting it into a dead one.  
  
This is the first time that I have tried this spell but I am glad it worked  
for you.  
  
I am sorry that the last memories you have of me are bad ones. Let me assure you that I only acted like I did because of the spell I suppose I  
was put under. I hope you can someday forgive me  
  
Please look after everyone left behind. My will is in the top left-hand  
drawer of the desk in my office. Everything is in order.  
  
Harry, please live your life to the full. I hope you find all the happiness  
in the world.  
  
Yours with love  
  
Professor Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Harry looked down at the last contact he would ever have with the greatest wizard of the age, and cried. 


	6. The Guilt

Harry stood frozen in that position for what seemed like forever. He simply could not comprehend what had just happened. Dumbledore was dead and he, Harry, had been brought back to life. This was impossible.  
  
Harry walked shakily over to the armchairs, letting the letter fall out of his hands and gently land on the floor. He reached for the cushion sitting in the armchair and held onto it tightly.  
  
Large, wet tears fell silently down Harry's blood streaked face, to land on the pillow clutched in his hands. Harry lifted his hand to wipe them away and looking down, he saw a bloodstained patch in his cloak.  
  
He opened the cloak at the join and lifted up his t-shirt. Carved into his skin was a bright white, jagged looking scar. Harry examined it more closely and to his surprise he saw it was in the shape of a stag.  
  
"Dad." he breathed, his voice a hoarse whisper. Harry realised what this meant. His mum had protected him when he was one, now his dad had protected him when he was 16.  
  
Harry let the t-shirt drop and he hugged the pillow close to him once more. Harry was then filled with an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Another person had died because of him, his mum had, Sirius had and now Dumbledore had. Was that what his entire life going to amount to? People dying to save him?  
  
Harry was suddenly jolted out of these unpleasant thoughts by a loud banging at the door. The door bent inwards, apparently being subjected to a vast force.  
  
"Stop!" a woman's voice yelled outside the door. "It's probably spelled to keep shut. Stand back.  
  
Mansitra!" The door exploded inwards and in rushed Hagrid, Professor Mcgonagall, and Mr and Mrs Weasley.  
  
"Harry, HARRY!" Harry recoiled at the noise and held onto the cushion even more tightly. Professor Mcgonagall let out a high scream "Albus! No!" She ran over to Dumbledore's side and fell to her knees. She felt for his pulse and when she felt none, she sat on her heels in shock.  
  
Meanwhile, Mrs Weasley had spotted Harry and had run over to him. She enveloped him in one of her bone crushing hugs, but Harry didn't mind. He need that at the moment, he needed someone to show him everything was alright.  
  
"Harry. Harry. it's alright. Don't worry," she spoke in a soothing voice and Harry held on tighter. He didn't want to let go until everything had gone away and everything was right again.  
  
Professor Mcgonagall's sobs rent through the still air. Harry looked through a gap in Mrs Weasley's arms and saw Professor Mcgonagall on the floor clutching Dumbledore's hand.  
  
Harry pushed away from Mrs Weasley once again filled with guilt.  
  
"Professor Mcgonagall.it was me," Harry whispered, "he died because of me."  
  
They looked at him with questioning looks in their eyes. Mrs Weasley started to protest.  
  
"No.Harry dear, that's not true."  
  
"Look at the letter," Harry pointed to the piece of parchment lying on the floor.  
  
Hagrid bent down, his cloak stretching and his long matted beard almost touching the ground. His short stubby fingers closed around the parchment and he straightened back up.  
  
He read the words, his dark brown eyes flickering down the page. When he had finished his face fell even further and he handed it to the Professor.  
  
She read the letter and said:  
  
"How is this possible? No one can be brought back to life"  
  
"What?" Mrs Weasley asked "who was bought back to life?"  
  
"I was." Harry dropped the cushion he had been holding onto and shakily stood up. He turned to the 4 faces watching him and said:  
  
"Voldemort and I fought again, without magic. I had got on top of him. when he pulled out a knife.  
  
He plunged it into my stomach and I.and I died."  
  
"Oh Harry, what do you mean?" Mrs Weasley asked "you can't have died. How can you?"  
  
"I can," Harry said. He lifted up his shirt and showed them his scar. "It went in here, the knife is over there." He pointed at the knife lying innocently on the carpet.  
  
Mr Weasley picked up the knife and started to examine it. Harry continued.  
  
"I just remember crying out Avada Kedavra and seeing a large shape fall to the floor. It was Voldemort. he is dead isn't he?" Mr Weasley walked over to the shape covered by a cloak and kicked it.  
  
"Yeah. he's gone"  
  
"The next thing I remember is waking up.and seeing Dumbledore lying next to me.dead." Harry bowed his head and felt the tears well up in his eyes again.  
  
Mrs Weasley went back to Harry and wrapped her hands around him again. He let out a low moan and let himself be enveloped in her arms again. 


End file.
